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“Kaveh!”
The distinct scent that came with long periods of sexual activity hung heavily over the cool evening air, turning it warm and humid. Night and day was indistinguishable at this state, yet it was clearly not morning; in the place of birdsong was high-pitched mewls and breathy moans that seemed so unsanctioned by the moon’s unspoken rules.
A low humming sound accompanied these noises, creating a sort of avant-garde harmony that sounded better than any musical performance Kaveh has ever watched. His fingers locked a concave firmly over his own mouth, the small gap between his lips and his palm bridged by his hot breaths.
His face was burning– he was so sure he was as red as a Henna berry– and his erection, despite the number of rounds they’d had prior to the toys, was so noticeably hard; he couldn’t ignore it anymore. He couldn’t push it to the back of his head, not with his muse in front of him squirming at the overstimulation brought on by this new machine, not with this masterpiece that he was sure anyone would find delectable, that an artisan would deem alluring.
He was a man both common and that who held artistic sense. In other words, this was paradise. It was an experience for all his senses. It wasn’t as if this was the first time he was having sex with Alhaitham, but it took a while to convince the surprisingly-ambivalent Scribe to agree to using contraptions. Kaveh cheered in his heart. It was so worth the wait, even better than he’d imagined.
As always the Scribe was easy to bend and twist, like he was clay, and although Kaveh was not much of a potter, he found it so natural for him to manipulate the other’s limbs. His mind wasn’t as tough as his body– which didn’t really take all that much to soften– when it came to sensual undertakings, and the contrast from his general demeanor outside the bedroom made it so much more exquisite.
He knew, he knew. How lucky he was to be the one who could lick up all that Alhaitham had to offer, from his aloof personality to his silly sarcasm to his inimitable kindness to how utterly lewd he was when he was being fucked.
So far, it had only been traditional and normative as far as that went, so having a vibrating toy and nipple clamps on his person was sending Alhaitham to headspaces that he’d never been in before. The more he drifted off from his rooted rationality, the more he felt like he was deviating from a sound mind.
Although , he thought, nothing could replace the feeling of Kaveh being inside him and he missed it, the vibrator was something else. It was doing things to him that he’d never felt before, and perhaps the desperation he’d felt wanting Kaveh’s dick back enhanced the experience.
His brain was clouded with fog, the mist getting thicker as this dragged on, the cock ring keeping him on edge for quite some time now. He stopped counting after the 15-minute mark, not including foreplay, and his sense of time since then had been gradually dissolving into murky pools of mindless pleasure.
“Kaveh– Kav–” Alhaitham stopped abruptly, choking on the saliva that pooled in his mouth and danced towards the sheets in sticky strings. He coughed briefly, and he couldn’t hold back the soft groan that escaped his lips after he’d swallowed with significant difficulty. He was unable to pick himself up at this point, immediately sprawling back into disorganized moans both long or otherwise. His breathing was erratic as he tried to recover.
It felt as if his lungs had forgotten the rhythm of inhaling and exhaling, and his muscular frame shook, the sensation in his lower body causing his breath to be cut into three short sections that seemed like gasps.
Kaveh’s free hand worked with annoying expertise on his cock, cooperating perfectly with the pulsation of the nipple clamps, not allowing a single point among his sensitive areas to relax. His erection felt so uncomfortable; the ring around it prevented him from cumming. It was insane. He didn’t know where to focus.
He’d been wanting to throw Kaveh a remark about his practiced movements, to tease him about the fact that he was probably good at this because he’d pleasured himself a lot before they got together, but he couldn’t. Kaveh stopped occasionally, and he was getting so frustrated at this point he was about to cry.
He couldn’t form sentences, and he certainly knew he didn’t have the usual snark to pull it off without it seeming farcical, to be dismissed as frivolity and the last-ditch effort of a man on the edge of breaking, to stubbornly project as if desperate to prove, to keep a hold on his established identity.
“Kaveh, please, please, please–” he inhaled shakily, his speaking voice barely distinguishable from sluttish cajoling. “Stop, stop stop stop sto-” his voice got louder with every repetition of the word, interrupted with a breath that sounded so vulnerable as the architect adjusted the position of the toy to allow his fingers entry alongside it.
“I can’t, I– Kaveh, Kaveh, Kav–eh!” Alhaitham’s voice rose to a volume that surprised even him as he felt the fingers penetrate his backside, moving along the vibrator in a sort of coordination that worked so well. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as the blonde found his sweet spot and gave it a push to hit where the toy couldn’t quite reach as good, and as dumb as he was sure his face looked at the moment, his brain went blank for a split-second.
When he came to, pulled back to consciousness by the sensations throughout his body, he broke into a sob as he went from a position that allowed him to cover the lower part of his face with his upper arm, to lying on his back and gripping the pillow behind his head with both hands
Alhaitham’s spine was arched, and he, despite himself, began to unconsciously thrust his hips towards Kaveh’s fingers in a complementary staccato.
Kaveh swallowed hard. As the Scribe under him began to sob with his eyes focusing and unfocusing, he began to act as if he’d forgotten how to say anything other than Kaveh’s name. The architect felt his arousal skyrocket, going against his initial conclusion that it wasn’t even possible anymore at this point.
He couldn’t keep himself from breathing louder, the short huffs a cross between air and low, lustful groans. He wanted to let go, his discipline barely keeping his self-control intact. How he wished to relieve himself by driving his throbbing erection deep inside his lover’s warmth, to pry everything off so he could take this beautiful man by, and for, himself, to let pathos override his reasoning and interrupt his appreciation for the loveliest flowers.
He wanted to grab that flower instead of feeding his eyes with its rose-colored petals. He wanted to fuck Haitham senseless. He wanted the both of them to cling to each other’s bodies as the sound of skin slapping skin grew loud enough to match their voices, yet he was not about to give up with his so-called sprinkle of flavor.
His brows creased, his sweat flowed freer as Alhaitham continued to alternate between his name and the words, ‘stop’, ‘please’; ‘no, more’, in no particular order, the last set of words admittedly confusing when disarranged. He bent down to trail kisses over the silver-haired man’s abdomen, then his waist, which he had to hug with his arm that was initially on his cock as Alhaitham’s torso jerked violently upwards.
Kaveh sucked and bit on skin, causing Alhaitham to cry louder as red marks bloomed on the surface. Kaveh’s own cock had been leaking with precum all this time, and he felt like he was so close to ejaculating from the sight and sounds alone. His chest grew tighter, and when he rose to accommodate the relief, the other man began to plead genuinely.
“Kaveh…” he started with a sob. “Please. Really. Seriously– please– can’t… any more– really–” he was interrupted with another.
The architect had a small bout of panic, and he hurriedly reached out to the nightstand where the remote lay. He kissed Alhaitham’s forehead as he shut off the vibrator, the pumping of the nipple clamps also crawling to a still. Truly worried he’d gone overboard, he gently pulled off the ribbed cock ring, drawing out a long moan from his partner, who climaxed after the pressure was released.
“Archons , ” Kaveh cursed at himself, knowing it was so wrong of him to feel like this at the moment, but his stomach leapt at the sequence of events and he blew his own load over the Scribe’s abs.
The two of them panted for a while as the intensity of their evening lowered, and Alhaitham was surprisingly the first one to break the silence. It took quite a while, Kaveh bordering on his fears much too much to take the dive.
“I… I’m sorry, I got scared…” he trailed off, his voice softer, breathier than usual. There was a slight rasp in his throat; perhaps it was beginning to get sore.
“No, no. It’s alright. Quite alright,” the blonde mumbled frantically, the last word drifting out in a sigh. He ran a hand through his messy, yet ever-so-pretty hair. “What’s wrong? What scared you?”
There was silence for a while, the sound of Alhaitham’s breathing finding its cycle once more doing good to settle him down. He hesitated, then with a slight slur lingering on his tongue, said, “My mind was starting to, um,” trying to find the right word, “get stupid.”
Kaveh’s brows shot up, eyes slightly widening, and he looked at his lover, encouraging him to go on.
“It was just… not working. And I don’t know, I–” he stuttered uncharacteristically, a small frown settling gracefully over his face like a veil of fabric falling to the floor. “I’ve never been like this before. I’m, this, today, it was good. It’s so good, like always, but in a different way l, and I can’t seem to think of anything else.”
Kaveh bit back a smile. The nervousness in his heart rushed up to his chest and spread like a gentle wildfire. It was the first time Alhaitham had openly stated how good it felt, and it made Kaveh awfully glad, knowing that he was not alone in thinking it pleasurable. Well, by the scribe’s reactions alone he could tell he was doing a good job, but there was something irreplaceable within reassurance that directly manifested.
“Haitham,” a chuckle in his voice. “Haitham, Haitham… you’re so silly, I fucking swear… that’s what you get for– ah, nevermind. I’ll spare you this time because you’re cute.” He laughed softly, leaning down to kiss Alhaitham’s lips. He broke it soon after, but he didn’t pull away, their faces separated by mere inches.
“That’s how it’s supposed to feel, dummy.”
The artist’s scarlet eyes looked at his special muse with so much passion and love, the feelings flowing out of his gaze like soft smoke. Locks of his golden hair escaped their cluster behind Kaveh’s ears, flowing towards Alhaitham in slow waves. The longer strands tickled Alhaitham’s face, and his arm moved up to usher Kaveh’s head back towards himself so they could kiss once more.
He felt his lover’s smile through the union, and as Kaveh’s tongue slipped into his mouth, he moaned, then noticed how the blonde’s dick stiffened against his leg once again. Kaveh was also definitely aware of this, and he pulled away, his face instantly alternating through shades of red.
Kaveh’s hands flew all over the place as he sputtered to defend himself, launching a million excuses that earned a snort much like clement sun from Alhaitham.
“You’re still weak to me, huh.” He said, his tone holding a modicum of mockery yet it lacked its usual bite. His mouth curved slightly upwards, and this summoned a reaction out of Kaveh the same as always.
“Who wouldn’t be, dumbass? When you’re this hot like sometimes I think you’re doing it on purpose!”
“How is it on purpose when I was born like this?”
“Ah, it’s all over once you stop shutting up.”
“You too.”
“Ahhh, whatever! Haitham! Are you okay? Tired?”
Alhaitham offered a small hum of approval. His white lashes moved, like a fan over his multicolored irises as his lips parted.
He didn’t specify which he nodded to, but Kaveh settled with assuming it was for both. He wasn’t usually as lenient, but he wasn’t very mad at Alhaitham today so he decided to leave his erection be; it’ll be forgotten after a shower or something. Besides, although bullying his lover in bed was his outlet for getting bullied by said man on the daily, he knew where to draw the line.
He moved Alhaitham's fringe out of the way, displaying his face cleanly.
“Your eyes are really unique, huh… Whoops,” he let out as he began to get up, collecting the toys from the bed and placing them back in the box to clean tomorrow. “I’d intended to go for the good old slow sex just to sort of finalize things, but if you’re tired, I’ll be generous today. Kinda my bad for–”
“No, let’s do it.”
Kaveh looked over his shoulder.
“Let’s do it. I want that.”
“... dear Archons… you don’t have to be so straightforward about these things.” He complained as he walked back towards the bed, but he didn’t intend to hide the spring in his step at all.
“It’s useless to be so roundabout with it like you are sometimes.”
“Yes, yes, I’m like a maiden in love who wants to appear dainty.” Kaveh repeated an insult Alhaitham once had said to him.
They kissed, and the blonde began to run his hands all over his lover’s body, small moans between eager breaths escaping the two of them as they gradually melted back into each other. Alhaitham’s own hand found itself in Kaveh’s hair and one on his waist, his legs gaining back enough strength to lock themselves behind Kaveh.
His nipples perked up, and seeing as they were just straight out of action, it wasn’t very hard for Kaveh to bury himself deep into Alhaitham. The blonde threw his head back, slowly letting out a satisfied breath as he managed to get it all in. It hasn’t been that long, but he missed the feeling of his boyfriend's body that accommodated him so well, like it wouldn’t work if it were someone else.
After Alhaitham gave him the go, he began to move slowly.
“So…” he started, his heavy breaths providing a perfect overlay for Alhaitham’s small moans. “You just admitted I don’t have a skill issue.” He pushed with a little more force, the Scribe’s pitch stepping up the scale. “But it makes me curious. All this time you haven’t let go?”
“Let go of what?” With a few interruptions, Alhaitham managed.
“Like… just… let go.”
“Ah– what do you…”
“What do you think of when we have sex?”
The scribe’s hands moved to grasp at Kaveh’s back as he began to move as well, chasing his nth orgasm for tonight. Despite the known rule that abundance was the first step to lackluster results, his body didn’t plan to give him a break, and neither did Kaveh’s irksome proficiency in what he did.
The blonde said slow sex, but he began to build up to a faster, harsher pace. Despite his exhaustion, Alhaitham was loving every single second of it. He had to go to work tomorrow but–
“Who, ah, who cares– about that…!” He bit his lip as he felt his stomach churn in the most pleasant way he knew so well. His breaths got faster as Kaveh’s thrusts reached deeper, their tongues now entangled much like their bodies. The humidity in the room rose; everything was so wet, the heat making both their brains melt, the sight a sloppy mess.
The gleam of the desk lamp cast mellow shadows on the walls. The incense Kaveh had lit had become ash long ago, but the musk had definitely set the stage for what had transpired. The scent of passion was unequaled, though, and soon the wine made way for milk and honey. It was sticky, sickly sweet, an ideal that felt quite too good to be true for the architect who’d convinced himself somehow that Alhaitham would never look his way.
But now he was here, under him, staring directly into Kaveh’s eyes. They’d come a long way, from strangers to colleagues to friends, to just two people who didn’t wish to be involved with the other anymore but knew they’d never be the same.
Then now.
Kaveh was getting emotional, but he swallowed his tears; he knew his lover would never forget to use it against him if he cried during sex. He recast his attention with some other sensation that wasn’t the pining of his heart long gone. He knew he should be over it; it was in the past, and yet he didn’t seem to be ready to release the lantern that contained the romance there was in a long and arduous process.
He felt the sting of Alhaitham’s nails digging into his back, and it was as if he had some sort of complex sadomasochism that made him so satisfied with knowing he could do this to his muse, the pain an indicator that made him ever closer to his own climax.
Calling out each other’s names– words that had lost their intimacy to the necessity of everyday life– and holding each other and keeping each other within their field of vision, they had gotten to the last stretch. Alhaitham cried out as he orgasmed first, and then Kaveh. The scribe shakily inhaled as Kaveh filled him up, their bodies twitching, the two of them riding it out, the motion eventually crawling to a halt.
The architect pulled out, flopping on his back over to the free space beside Alhaitham with a satisfied sigh.
“Ah… now I’m too tired to clean up…” his eyes closing, he ran his fingers through his hair, seemingly out of habit. “That okay with you?”
Alhaitham nodded, and as Kaveh began to lazily mumble words of love affection the way he did when he was drunk, the two of them snuggled up to each other and the scribe fell asleep. He didn’t even mind the crickets, the movement outside his house, all the sounds he could hear without anything to block them out. He felt so safe in his lover’s arms, Kaveh’s radiance dimming out the rest of anything and everything else.